


Cruel

by Dayzaya



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: AU, Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt, M/M, Priest Shizuo, Reincarnation, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vampires, Werewolf Nakura, Werewolves, vampire izaya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-16 03:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7250509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayzaya/pseuds/Dayzaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>  And fear, Izaya believes, is what begins the downfall. </em><br/>Izaya is a vampire who lives by Saika's ruling hand; a puppet. When he indulges himself in the pleasures of humans, Shizuo indulges in sin along with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frostlesskiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostlesskiss/gifts).



> i am updating this like. everytime i want too. so the chapters will be short to stay to the point. la di da, i like short chapters. i lean towards the style of maxium ride when i do chapters tbh.  
> this fic is for my friend, who i've known for nearly six years! she likes shizaya and so do i.

_Even in my cold, unfeeling body, with no blood flowing through,_  
_I somehow felt the warmth exuding from you_

* * *

          He wears a ring. 

                         Izaya notices it when he first meets the brunette, back pressed against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Buttons pressing harsh against his flesh; his head cocked to one side and lips parted in normality; he could feel each breathe he takes, an exhale drying the wet of his lips. He slides his tongue out after each exhale, when he inhales slowly and catches wind of human and feels his stomach clench in hunger. But he doesn't react, not when the human male is a priest and priests and priestesses are ones who would easily send him to burn at a cross. Instead, he keeps calm and doesn't move except to blink and cock his head when the brunette glances over at him.

        The ring, Izaya knows, is a promise ring. A ring to prove an innocence that would lead on until a marriage; or better yet, for  _death_. Izaya could only smile, a bitter sweet smile upon the others gaze and he waits a moment, raises both his brows and straightens out finally when the other moves in closer. 

             "Is Saika-san here?" It's a question Izaya knows would come. But Izaya only cocks his head, licks his bottom lip when he could feel the ache of fangs burn in his mouth. The other is simply staring at him; watching with an expression that Izaya could easily read. It's slight annoyance, a twist of the other's lips before shoulders are slumped and the priest drags a hand through his hair. "Is she here?" 

         Izaya pushes from the wall, rocks on his heels and manages a soft; "she's inside. May I ask  _why_ you need to see mother?" Saika isn't his mother, not his  _real_ mother anyways. She acts like one; has been since the day pain burned bright inside him and his entire body quaked in shivers and he could vomit out food he's eaten the day before that hadn't yet digested. He's looking at the ring again, this time he lets his eyes slide over the silver and his mouth curls into smile that borders between amusement and sorrow.

            The priest doesn't respond; he's moving inside and Izaya knows, deep down, that rumors fly fast and it's not a shock that whispers of Saika being a demon, a witch, a vampire are in high wind. They send a priest to see, to watch how she talks. Wonder why she hasn't entered Church on the Sundays, why she doesn't walk on the same side of the street. Izaya wants to laugh. Long ago, they wouldn't have questioned it, Saika was rich. Powerful and had connections everywhere; but now the Church stood strong with fear.

 And fear, Izaya believes, is what begins the downfall.

 


	2. red

        Izaya hears his name two days after he meets the priest. It's Shizuo; a name that makes Izaya snicker gently as he scrubs Saika's kimono from the red that had splashed upon the pink. Unlike her, Izaya does prefer the wear of British Culture; finds it more comfortable and fitting. Saika prefers to stay true to the country she was born in and doesn't comment on what Izaya wears. Simple shakes her head and allows her bright carmine hues to stay sharp on the young raven.

                   "...he spoke with me about coming to the Church." Saika says, she has fingers wrapped around a cup and her lips are forming a grin where it doesn't match the cruel in her eyes. Izaya pauses in his actions, his arms don't ache but his fingers still look a shade brighter. It fades easy when he stops, sits back on his knees and watches the other raven. Her hair is long and straight; pooling around her. It shapes around her face, all soft curves and a look of a young woman despite her actual age being even more than the church. 

   Izaya raises both his shoulders, drops them with a soft, "and will you?" He speaks respectfully, the only one to gain his own respect. Of course, this came from history between the two. Saika places her cup down and stretches her fingers; wriggles them and Izaya hears the pop between the digits as she does so. 

              "I have no reason, the church isn't my religion. I believe in Kami, you know this." She's shaking her head and sipping the tea he had brewed; Izaya nods slowly. He  _does_ know, the woman had a shinto shrine in a room where she worshiped in peace. Izaya hadn't a religion he followed, feels like he didn't need to. Though he comes with her when she requests him, to sit and worship alongside her and despite their small village converting to Christianity, they still held festivals that Saika would merrily come along to while claiming softly "i love humans don't you?"

                   _Yes_ , Izaya would respond back. Though, he didn't. Humans were vile and fickle, changing their minds and hearts and would even kill those they loved out of fear. It makes him shudder; and he would decides that he wouldn't step into the same waters as them. Saika, on the other hand, trembled with joy around humans. Claimed they filled her with life; and she  _laughs_ upon Izaya's expression of confusion. However, Izaya understands one thing.

            She likes to see them be hers, claims she loves all humans. Wants them. Needs them.  _That's why I saved you!_ She had fondly told him one evening when he was still shuddering from pain but drinking heavily liquid that tasted like copper and stained like a rose. 

               _More like a demon._ Izaya would say but he doesn't, not when she could easily touch his mind and soul and see everything;  _hear_ and manipulate his own desires. 

                        "Why did he wish for you to come, Saika-san?" He chooses his words carefully, returning to scrubbing the stain. Water has turned pink and Izaya sighs softly knowing he would have to change the water. Saika is silent also, but when Izaya peers at her, she's not staring at him with squinted eyes. She's staring at the wall and her mouth is puckered into a frown and her bright red eyes dim to a dark blood color.

                     "He doesn't want me to be persecuted." She responds after silence, "such a kind priest," her finger circles the rim of her glass, "Shizuo."

                Shizuo, _peaceful island_. A fitting name for a priest, Izaya murmurs the words and Saika _giggles_ her agreement. Izaya watches her face and she turns to him, eyes large and lips pulled into a grin so Izaya could see the sharp white of teeth. A feeling sits in his belly and he shakes his head-

           "I _can't_."

"You can." Saika chirps, sips her tea and begins to laugh. Her laugh sounds like cicadas in a hot summer day, and Izaya can't bring himself to hate it.

                     _Shizuo_. He grits his teeth and stands with the bucket, splashing water onto his person.  _Shizuo I curse you to the pits of hell_.

   Izaya knows, without a doubt, on Sunday morning he would be in his best appearance standing at the door of heaven's home on earth. He decides then, that he  _really_   _ **truly**_ hates humans and their kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, religion. mmm. can you figure out what era they are in? heeeh


	3. hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god, i meant to update yesterday but i was so tired and watching movies uvu;

         Izaya walks up the steps on the church and he feels hot. It begins at his chest and it aches like a time long ago; and he could only inhale slowly while he tried to focus on the steps. They are made of wood, it's already worn down from the people who've stepped up and down them and inside the church it's hot. He wonders how the priest's are able to wear what they do in such hot weather. If he had been any human, the clothing he wore would've been unbearable in the weather but he's cold despite the sudden flare of heat in his chest.

             Izaya isn't here to worship, he could see other villagers who switched religion glancing at him, hushed whispers of  _why is he here?_ and some murmuring that it was  _good_ he was.  _A young man like him needs out lord hanging around that heathen saika_. Heathen, it makes him huff softly and he sits at the edge of a seat and his fingers curl into his pants because the heat is aching in his chest and now turns to his belly so his lips tremble and his throat clenches up in the way he felt like any moment he would vomit. 

    He's waiting for Shizuo. And it makes him uncomfortable when the heat flares up upon seeing another priest steps up to a stand; hands coming to grip the wood and he nods and Izaya hisses soft beneath his breath because it  _hurts_ to hear the human begin speaking. Somehow, despite the growing burn and the feeling in his throat Izaya manages to sit through it. If he pretends the sounds he hears are simply background noise and he thinks about Saika's lessons throughout the years.

      By the time the sermon has ended, Izaya doesn't feel as sick as he did but he's slightly woozy and he doesn't think he can stand with how bad his legs ache and how hot his insides feel.

    "You came." It's the same voice he's heard once before. It's like a growl of words- for a moment, Izaya thinks he could feel the vibration of what was asked. Izaya decides to look; and he's amused by the smile gracing the brunette's face and the eyes are sparkled with innocence and a joy Izaya thinks is unneeded.

                    "I came to speak with you." Izaya responds, "I didn't know where you were."

"I was in the back." Shizuo responds, the smile still on his face. "You could've looked."

                 Izaya is silent. He  _could've_. But the heat he felt made it hard to stand; even now he keeps seated and simply swallows in mock action of  _sheepishness_. "Is it not rude to leave during a sermon?" Izaya asks smoothly in retaliation. Shizuo makes a  _hm_ in amusement with a low laugh but doesn't respond.

           A silence falls and they simply stare at one another; Izaya with no expression and Shizuo is raising both his brows at the raven who still hasn't stood.

    "May I ask where Saika-san is?" Shizuo finally speaks up; arms crossed behind his back. Izaya tilts his head, a hand grabbing at the wood of the seat and he manages to push himself upwards. He nearly stumbles and Shizuo is moving both arms to help steady him but Izaya shifts, steps back and replies with;

          "Saika-san practices Shinto, she had me come to tell you she will not come to the church and being around it makes her feel as if she is cheating her religion. Her family has practiced it for many years." It's a mixed between truth and lie, and Shizuo hums thoughtfully. 

    "I see. I will tell the others as so."

"Please respect her choice." Izaya adds quickly. He wipes his bangs from his face, and he's moving to leave. He can't stand to be in a place that makes him ache and want to empty out his stomach when he hasn't even feed; by the time he's stepping from the door and breathing in actual fresh air instead of one that's mixed with the clustered scent of humans he hears;

                                                 "Will you come to the next one?" He glances back with a smile twisted between mirth and malice but as Shizuo had done; he offers no response as he steps free from the tight cage of sultriness.


	4. dull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> archive was being mean and wouldn't let me post this. sorry for the lateness.

    He doesn't know how he manages to make it back to Saika in one piece, not when he's inwardly screaming pain with each sharp ache ringing harsh over his form. Izaya hasn't felt any sort of discomfort like this since he had turned; it's almost knew. Hurts more, and makes his knees buckle by the time he's sliding open the doors.

         Saika responds quickly, she's leaping to her feet graceful and smooth, her soft gasp of his name makes the heat brighten more and Izaya could barely mumble a response before he's falling forward and she's wrapping cool arms around his waist and purring out low;  _just sleep my child_. 

  When he awakens, Saika is stirring something in a pot. There's a stuffiness in the room, doesn't smell of sweat and blood, only of jasmine and honey. Izaya is laying on his side, there's a damp towel on his head and his breathes come out in soft pants that leave a strange feeling of dryness inside and out. She peers over at him, the sharp angle of her brows furrowed and her lashes seem thicker as her eyes slide over his form.

     "I didn't believe sending you to a church would have that affect." Saika speaks up when she turns back to her pot, still stirring slowly. Izaya swallows, managing;

            "I told you no." She ignores his comment.

"They were blessed. And you are still a young vampire. I'm honestly surprised you managed to sit through as much as you did." Her lips quirk into a smile, it's more fond than teasing and Izaya simple presses his cheek against the fabric covering him as he shuts his eyes. It's odd to have slept, he feels weird. A strange throb in his head and his chest doesn't burn as it did. "Thank you, Izaya."

          "You're welcome." Izaya drops the comment  _you're mother_ because Saika already knows in her odd way. He watches as she stops stirring the pot and lifts the ladle, one hand reaching for a cup and curling fingers against it to hold it upwards as she pours hot scalding liquid into the ceramic. Saika holds it out, and Izaya scowls. "I can't drink that, I'll get sick."

   "You must." Saika presses, head canted to a side. Her hair drags along her shoulders and her kimino seems to glow in the burning light of the fire. "Before you go feed, I need you to drink this."

        "Why?" He's demanding this even as he reaches for the hot cup, undisturbed by the heat around his cool hands. He brings it to his lips, nearly gagging and his tongue pushes out as he heaves in response. Izaya wouldn't understand how Saika could drink this, when she's pouring herself a cup and sipping smoothly as if it's a blood of a virgin.  He figures it would take years of practice.

                       "Don't ask, just do." Is her response. Silence falls, when he drinks the tea nearly retching moments later- Saika simply lays her hand on his back and he could hear screams and voices  _love love love_. He does not react, too used to hearing such things as Saika presses her mouth against his temple and softly whispers; "Shizuo will return next Sunday. I want you to prepare a dinner and eat."

                            " _Why_." That's all Izaya could say, words more bitter than curious. He's biting out frustration with a huff when Saika simple says; 

                "I want to love him."


	5. passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you get sick and everything is just a mess  
> sorry for the lateness.
> 
> this is a bit about saika to give some unneeded background because i suck

        "I can't eat." Izaya says the next day, when he's sitting up and his shirt is nearly unbuttoned and his pants are fit tightly along his waist. There's a blanket around his shoulders and his mouth is turned into a scowl. However, the bowl in his hands is only full of rice and his chopsticks tremble along with his hands at the idea of pushing the food into his mouth. Saika doesn't respond, she's eating calmly and the way the robes pooled around her made her appear as if she was a goddess or even royalty. 

             Albeit, the room around them is large and nearly empty. Izaya knows other rooms are full, and along the outside it's covered in flowers and lush life. Everything is kept nice and clean, Izaya roams the halls when Saika seems more content with sitting in one room and gazing longingly outside. He's never seen her walk out, but when she does it's only to the garden and the springs located in the woods. He would question it as a youngling; curious and frustrated whenever he was set out. Saika would merely smile and respond with another chore she wished him to do.

                    Izaya lifts a small grain of rice and holds it up in the light. It's only pearly white and smells nice; but he didn't thing he can easily place it in his mouth. Everytime he's lifted it to his mouth he shudders and his throat contracts and mouth parts as he manages a dry heave. 

         "You're being dramatic." Saika suddenly says when she places her bowl down. When she gives Izaya her attention, she's reaching for his chopsticks and his bowl. "You need to practice keeping it down."

    "How are you able to eat this?" Izaya hisses instead when she's holding up a larger portion of rice and pressing it against his lips with her own mouth puckered and eyes growing wider. His question makes Saika pause, blinks several times and then suddenly she laughs all too sweetly.

* * *

Saika's not human.

She remembers being born, not as a infant. But as herself. She was sick, she recalls. Horribly sick, unable to move from where she laid and her entire body ached unpleasantly. What had occurred to cause the sickness- she hadn't a clue. Days before she had been well while tending the garden with her mother before she was bit by a animal. Afterwards, she had became sick and now, she laid unable to focus and scared.

                      _She's going to die._  

Saika knew this; and then, she prayed. Prayed to Kami to not let her suffer this way; no more. She remembers begging,  _no more pain, no more please_. It was odd, she thinks, when her head pounding and her stomach lurched in odd ways until she had to roll over and empty the contents while she pushed herself up on shaky elbows.

           Her family wouldn't see her. No one would, the room she was in stank of vomit and sweat. She didn't want to suffer anymore, and pleading for her mother to come see her wouldn't help.  _I don't want to die this way_. Saika was a good girl, a wonderful daughter who never spoke out of turn and kept her outfits cleaned and helped her mother on every task. They were poor; nothing but common folk. But Saika loved her life, and loved  _everyone_.

                                 _That's why_ , Saika thinks,  _is why I can't die. I want to love everyone_.

She only moves to get away from the stench of vomit staining the floor, swallowing despite the taste that wouldn't leave. By the far corner the food and water is, and she could wait until someone returns to give her food, but Saika simply hiccups and breathes in deep when she inches closer and closer to the food. 

                  She stands, wobbly and unable to fully move and her hand catches an item on the wall. It's her grandfather's katana, passed down as a family heirloom. It falls easily and Saika could only stare, legs caving in and her hands barely catch herself.  _I don't want to die this way_.

                Suffering from whatever illness she had gotten; suffering in a room where no one would care for her. 

When her fingers curl around the blade, wobbly in unsheathing and breathing harder. Saika isn't able to fully lift the blade, isn't able to adjust anything right when she can barely move. But she grips as firm as she can and adjusts the tip to graze her chest. Her other hand slides her kimono to drop over her shoulder. The air is cold against her chest; but the blade hot.

* * *

     Years later, Saika would wake up. It's odd, when she does. Surrounded by the rush of water and her entire body is cool when the sun beats down on her face. She's naked, she realizes. Hair pooling around her and swaying with the water. She's _**naked**_ and when she sits up she inspects her hands. Her legs; the junction between her legs and then her chest. Her heart is beating fast, and in the reflection of the water she can see a scar. It's not large, but appears as if she's been stabbed; and her eyes are wide and red compared to the old brown they once were.

                     "Hey miss!" Calls out a voice, when Saika lifts her head she blinks and inhales sharply. There's a young boy and his face turns bright red when he see's her. "Ar-are you alright?"

                  Saika opens her mouth, but then shuts it. Her head cants to one side and her mouth curls into a smile. 

"I'm well." The boy nods and looks away with a face burning bright red; and Saika calls out, "do you mind...fetching me some spare clothing? I...seem to have had mine stolen."

    The boy nods and runs in the other direction. Saika finds she can't stand easily, and stumbles when she walks. By the time the boy has returned, she is still struggling and her heart is aching in this strange way. The boy takes her to the village, and Saika grips his shoulder to help balance. 

                                 She's greeted; and here. Alive. Well. 

But inside, she knows she isn't the same.

 

 


	6. facade

 Saika doesn't really speak to him the rest of the week. Not when every time she glances over at him, he can only see the bright glow of her eyes and the ghost of a smile on her lips as the days draw near to when Shizuo would arrive. It's unnerving, how could someone love a human so much? Love  _all_ humans, it leaves him a little sick and Izaya decides to keep silent and continue his own small duties.

              He hunts every other day, and as practice he's managed to keep down rice, and is slowly managing to keep down thin slices of lamb. It smells as odd as it taste and leaves Izaya feeling a little empty. Saika adds vegetables and a tea that tastes more like apple than it did cinnamon. 

    When he hunts, he does it quietly, moves into the next village to not cause any more fear within the one he resided in. The village he's visited for years and within the village lies a family he's seen for as long as he's lived. Hijiribe. The head of the household was a old man, shriveled and laying on his death bed the last time Izaya had seen him.  _Nearing death_ , he knows. 

     It's there he goes first. It's dark out, and Izaya has his coat tucked firmly around him. Head bowed as feet pressed against the wood of a branch. Izaya liked to watch the humans move at night, the hurried footsteps and the hushed  _come on you don't want to be taken do you_? It's a lie conjured up from the many times Izaya has feed within the village. At first, he recalls, when Saika had lead him here and he fed on the blood of a woman he couldn't recall her name, but hear her screams even now. 

               Saika didn't scold him, didn't tell him to stop. Simply watched with a smile on her face and when Izaya had caught himself in the act, half horrified yet satisfied as blood stained more than his face-- " _why didn't you stop me from killing her_ " Saika laughs; so carefree and loving Izaya almost believed her next words "because i love humans, i love to see them in all sorts of situations! don't you?"

       Izaya thinks- overtime, seeing the joy from the humans had wiped away more than her innocence. And she became tainted; a demon in the flesh of a woman.

* * *

  "You seem to be doing better," Izaya comments when he pushes close a door. The older Hijiribe glances at him and smiles; the wrinkles in his face are heavy and his skin matched the near shade of smoke.  It's a lie Izaya knows this, and so does the other. But it doesn't stop any pleasantries between them. The man laughs; head laying back onto cushions and he draws in a heavy breathe.

           "I'm dying." 

"Oh really? I hadn't notice Arata." Izaya is sitting beside the male now, curling fingers in the others sheets to push it up and covering the slightly wracking form. Not fear, from the chill of the outside Izaya tells himself. 

          Arata hums a response; "you've visited me for so long. Why haven't you taken my life?" It's a question he's heard a few times already, izaya notes it with the growing age. Arata utters it few times when they are together, going into a blank expression and unfocused and the question is spoken so brightly Izaya used to freeze. Now, he just blinks steadily and still. Hasn't found an answer. He could easily reach over and break the old man's neck; drink the blood. Arata wouldn't complain, nor scream.

         Instead, Izaya just lets his eyes drop half lidded and manage, "you're an old friend." Arata looks at Izaya, and for the first time in years, Izaya see's him cry-- **and for the first time in years** Izaya swallows harshly and feels a burning sensation in his own gaze when Arata grasps his hand and whispers;

 "Thank you."

* * *

                  Arata doesn't die. Izaya finds it to be interesting enough, when he slips out after a conversation and his throat aches with a need to feed. It's time to hunt, and the moon is high and half crescent; but as bright as the sun. Izaya could close his eyes and for a moment pretend he was a human.

      "Izaya-san?" Hearing his name stops Izaya short, he's on the branch, standing and his hand is gripping the trunk of the tree and his eyes drop down quickly. It's the _priest_ ; and for a moment Izaya forgets how to breathe. How to think when fear clutches his stomach and he blurts;

        "What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing, that is dangerous." Shizuo speaks calmly and his arms are folded behind his back as if the posture is the only way he would speak to the raven. Izaya notes it with disdain.

       "I'm _fine_." Izaya responds, "would this qualify me as a demon for doing such things?" Shizuo makes a face Izaya can't help but grin at; mirthful and merciless all at once when he slowly climbs down; watches the tension in Shizuo's shoulders and the way he shifts when Izaya's feet barely touch ground before he drops. 

             "No," Shizuo says. Soft and gentle and it makes Izaya sick. "It's only because I worry."

"You shouldn't." Izaya finds the words blurting out before he can stop it, to frustrated to question why Shizuo was there in a village he always hunted in. Knowing he would go hungry for another day. "I'm fine, I've been alone plenty long before Saika-san came along, and I'm fine now."

       "You're fine," a pause. A brush of cold wind that picks up dirt and the hem of his coat. "But-- Alright." Shizuo seems at end, struggling to find words and Izaya watches the twitch of his brow and the jaw that clenched. _He's angry_.  "It's really a small world if you've come here." Making conversation;  _trying_ too. But Izaya wants to see anger burn bright, his breathe catches in a sharp inhale at the mere sight of anger breaking the facade of a innocent priest.

               "I have a old friend." Izaya finally manages to say; and Shizuo seems more content with that answer than anything else.

  "It's late," Shizuo finally says and he's turning away, "stay with me for the night." Izaya agree's, if only to make the anger present once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so late?? sorry there's alot going on and im moving and yea


End file.
